I sputter over the bite of sticky toffee pudding I just stole from Drew’s plate.“What?Why?”
“You weresopathetic,” she says, her eyes dancing with mirth at my indignant squawk.“I’d watch you from my side of the room and think about how you looked like a dejected puppy.You never smiled, and your eyes were always red from crying.The minute you got back from school, you’d curl up in your bed, facing the wall.You always had a book with you, but it seemed like you were doing more crying than reading.”
“To be fair, I was doing both,” I tell her.
She chuckles.“I’d soon learn you were an excellent multitasker.Anyway, I remember being irritated that you were so sad.I didn’t know your full story, but I knew you’d come from a foster home.I’d been in the group home for ages and felt like a pound puppy nobody wanted.All I could think was, ‘at least someone wanted you enough to take you in, even if itwasonly temporary’.”
Drew’s parents were addicts who ran away from home at seventeen.She said the only reason they kept her as long as they did was because of the monthly government assistance cheques they received.Other than the bare necessities she needed to survive, the rest of their money was spent on drugs.She learned to take care of herself from a young age, and relied on the kindness of neighbours, teachers, and her parents’ more coherent friends.After being left on her own for a few days when she was ten, her neighbours notified Children’s Aid, and she was taken into custody.Due to a shortage of available foster homes, she was sent to a group home, and that’s where she remained until she turned eighteen.
“Do you remember the day we became friends?”Drew asks.
“I’ll never forget it,” I say, my voice wobbling.“I obviously didn’t know it then, but looking back, it was the beginning of a whole new life for me.”
Drew fans her face, laughing and rolling her eyes.“Ugh, stop it, I’ve managed to get this far without crying.”She gulps down some of her liqueur, then blows out a loud breath after she swallows.“So you remember I’d had the shittiest day ever at school.Some kids had been assholes to me, and even though I didn’t usually let it bother me, it got under my skin that day.You were already in bed when I got to our room, and I started stomping around, slamming drawers and muttering to myself, trying hard not to break down.You sat up and looked at me, and I told you—”
“To fuck off and stop looking at you with pity in my eyes,” I say.
She laughs again.“Right.I was hoping to scare you off, but you just sat there and stared at me with tears streaming down your face.Somehow I knew they were different from your normal tears, like you could see my pain, and it hurt you too.And when I finally broke down, you calmly got up and hugged me.”
“You fought me at first,” I remind her.“You shoved me away, and I thought you were going to punch me in the face.”It was one of the scariest, most vulnerable moments of my life.Other than Liza and Darren, I’d kept everyone at a distance for years.It had been weeks since I’d had an ounce of physical affection, and something in me told me Drew could use it as much as I could.That was confirmed when she collapsed against me, and we both sobbed and clung to each other like our lives depended on it.In that moment, maybe they did.
Drew swipes a rogue tear from her cheek now as she stuffs a bite of pudding in her mouth.I finish my cranachan, scraping up every last bit of whipped cream along the edges of the dish.Drew pushes her plate so it sits between us, jerking her chin to indicate for me to help her finish.
“I remember thinking, ‘this girl needs me, and, hell, maybe I need her too’,” she says.“And the rest, as they say, is history.”
Tears swim in my eyes, making everything around me waver.
“Those fifteen-year-old versions of us would be astounded if they knew everything we’ve accomplished,” she says.“That’s something to be proud of, you know.”
I make a non-committal sound.Six months ago, I would have agreed with her.Now, I’m not so sure.“You’vecertainly made it.You’ve got your dream career, and you’re married to the love of your life.You’re a homeowner, and you’re well-travelled.”
Drew tilts her head, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face.“I know the last few months have been hard for you, but you still deserve to be proud of all you’ve accomplished.It’s never too late to start over, Abs.To try something new and unexpected, pick a new path.”Her gaze shifts over my shoulder, going out of focus.A strange little half-smile flits over her face.
Before I can ask what she’s thinking, her gaze snaps back to mine.“Regardless, those fifteen-year-old versions of us would be impressed if they could see how far we’ve come.And they wouldlovethat we’re in our mid-thirties and still doing things like having slumber parties.”
I laugh.Graeme and Brodie have arranged for Drew, Fern, and me to have a sleepover at Graeme’s place tonight since we’ve been separated because of the leak in the MacKinlays’ guest room.Back in university, we used to have slumber parties at least once a month; we’d haul Fern’s mattress out to the living room since it was the biggest, and spend the night watching movies, eating copious amounts of junk food, and talking late into the night.Those nights are among my favourite memories from the years we lived together, and I was both excited and touched when Graeme mentioned hosting one for us.
Even after all this time and the distance between us—both physically and emotionally—he still knows exactly what I need.
* * *
My arm is numb allthe way to the tips of my fingers.Drew fell asleep with her head on my shoulder about twenty minutes ago, and her body has been getting heavier by the minute.
Tonight will be one of those nights that gets filed away with my happy memories of sleepovers during university.Graeme and Brodie had everything set up when Drew and I returned from our outing this afternoon.They’d borrowed a giant air mattress from a friend and had covered it with blankets and pillows.A mix of our favourite sweet and savoury snacks awaited us, and once Fern returned from meeting her friend, Graeme offered to go get us fish and chips for dinner.
The floor around us is littered with take-out containers, half-empty chip bags, crumpled chocolate wrappers, and cans of Scotland’s famous soft drink, Irn Bru.After watching several episodes ofOutlander—which we thought was fitting after our visit to Doune Castle the other day—Drew started to yawn.
“I’m a boring married lady now, you guys,” she’d said as she snuggled against my side.“I’m usually in bed before ten these days, and I’ve forgotten how to party.”
She was asleep five minutes later.
Now I glance down at her, smiling at how peaceful she looks.Fern is on my other side, picking at a bowl of cheese and onion crisps, her eyes trained on the steamy scene of Jamie and Claire playing out on the TV.Between my conversation with Drew earlier and being in the middle of this little nest tonight, my heart feels like it’s going to burst.
Fern glances over and laughs softly when she sees Drew is asleep.She sets her bowl of crisps aside and pauses the TV, climbing over me to help me get Drew settled on the mattress.Drew murmurs something about home and having the best night before curling onto her side and falling back to sleep.
“Are you still in love with Scotland this time around?”Fern asks quietly after we’ve turned off the TV and the lamp closest to Drew.
“To quote a Savage Garden song: truly, madly, deeply,” I say, drawing a chuckle from her.“Part of me was worried I’d built it up so much or that my feelings would have changed over time, but...no.I feel the same sense of magic and wonder as I did back then.”
